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Sergeant in the 1st Conn. Cavalry, 



^|ho ijicd at "indcrsoiuillc, MViX. 



i:OMPILED BT 

"HEODORE J. HOLMES, 

OF THE REGIMEXT. 



OIIAPI-AIN 



" To plan and dare, 
To use life, is ^fe's proper end, 
Letd^h coMe when it will, and wln-rt 




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In Zion's Hill Cemetery, at Hartford, Conn., lie the re- 
mains of John S. Jameson, one of the thousands sacrificed 
in our late war for the Union ; — one of the many who were 
mourned not alone by kindred and friends, but whose de- 
cease might be justly regarded a national calamity. 

The object of this sketch is to record, as briefly as possi- 
ble, some special features of his life — not only to gratify 
those best acquainted with him, but for the information of 
many who knew him enough to love and honor him, and 
yet saw but half his worth. Few of his army comrades 
ever suspected that he possessed those rare qualities, es- 
pecially tha.t genius in art, which made him, at home, the 
object of so much admiration. His rough service as a soldier, 
did not develop what he was himself too modest to reveal. 

He was born at Hartford, Conn., March 25th. 1812, and 
died August 31st, 1864. 

When only nine years old, he manifested unusual taste 
and ability for music, expressing a strong desire to learn to 



play the piano ; and soon made rapid progress under the 
guidance of his parents, both musicians — his father, Mr. 
John Jameson, professional organist, and his mother, Mrs. 
Rachel S. Jameson, a celebrated singer. When eleven years 
of age his parents removed their residence to New York, 
where he was able to enjoy rare opportunties for musicial 
culture, under the instruction, successively, of Messrs. H. AV. 
Greatorex, W. A. King, George W. Morgan, L. M. Gotts- 
chalk, and finally under Mr. VVra. Mason, to whose voluntary 
instruction and personal friendship he was greatly indebted 
for the proficiency which he afterwards attained. 

He early developed, too, a talent, quite as marked for 
drawing and painting. Daring his thirteenth year, while 
attending the Public Grammar School in Thirteenth street, 
he drew, one day, upon a slate, a sketch of his grandmother, 
so lifelike that it attracted the notice of several Artists, 
especially of Mr. Frederick E. Cliurch, who became, subse- 
quently, his warm friend and patron. 

It is certainly very remarkable that a mere boy should 
have developed, in two different directions, genius which 
won him such distinguished friends. The estimate in which 
these two gentlemen held him, appears best from letters 
written by them to his mother, after his decease, from 
which extracts are here given : 



5 

Mr. Frederick E. Church writes from Hudson, N. Y., 
April 25, 1867 : 

" Of all the younger Artists whose personal acquaintance I 
have made, and whose works and characteristics of mind and 
heart came to my observation, no one has interestsd me so 
much as your son, or held out better grounded hopes of fu- 
ture high excellence. His standard was a lofty one, and it ap- 
peared to me that no selfish ambition guided_his hand^as he 
essayed to portray the varied aspects of nature. When I 
heard that he had entered the army, I rejoiced, for I thought 
it Ukely the regular camp-life,— change of air and scene,— 
would so improve his general health as to give him back his 
eyes again restored. When I think how such a pure, high- 
minded and talented youth was sacrificed to the rage of the 
wicked— I almost feel tempted to rejoice that the direst ca- 
lamity has visited those regions of inhumanity. I thank you 
for your thoughtful kindness in sending me the sketch which 
will be one of those few things I expect always to have as 
fixtures in my home. Mrs. Church's estimate of the charac- 
ter and ability of your son coincides exactly with mine and 
with yours ; can I give him higher praise ?" 



Mr. William Mason writes from Orange, N. J., Oct. 12th, 
1867, as follows : 

" A few years ago happening to call at one of the Piano- 
forte Warerooms in Broadway, N. Y., ray attention was im- 
mediately attracted to a young man who was playing on one 
of the instruments. He was evidently improvising, and I 
was at once impressed with the beauty of his touch and the 
thoroughly musical manner of his playing. I ascertained 
his name from the proprietor of the place, and a few days 
afterwards, unbeknown to him, called upon his father and 
expressed the interest excited by his son (John S, Jameson) 
and my desire to be of service to him in his musical studies. 
Shortly after this he commenced his lessons with me, which 
were continued for several months, during which time he 
made rapid progress. His musical talent was of a very high 
order. He possessed a fine talent for composition and also 
im2:)rovised . exceedingly well, although I am not aware 
that he ever committed anything to paper. 

" On one occasion I accompanied him by invitation, to the 
studio of the Artist, Frederick E Church, who was at the 
time engaged on his painting — ' Heart of the Andes.' We 
passed a very pleasant hour there and on taking leave, Mr, 
Church asked what course I would advise Mr. Jameson to 
pursue — whether to become a painter or a musician. My 



7 
answer was that I was not competent to judge of his 
ability as a painter, — but it seemed to me that I had never 
met with a finer musicial talent. Mr. Church expressed 
a nearly similar opinion regarding his talent for painting. 

" On another occasion, being about to publish a piece of 
music for the Piano, on meeting Mr. Jameson I asked if he 
could draw me a design for a vignette title-page. The sug- 
gestion was made more playfully than in eai nest, but he im- 
mediately acted upon it, and in a day or two brought me a 
beautiful sketch, in pencil, of his own composition. Not 
willing, as he said, to have it spoiled by an Engraver, he 
would draw it himself upon stone, which he actually did, and 
notwithstanding it was his first attempt at anything of the 
kind, it proved a perfect success ; although he expressed 
himself dissatisfied with the tints in which it was afterwards 
printed. I believe that the last time we met, was some two 
or three years ago and on the last day of 1863. At that 
time he called upon Mrs. M. and myself, in Orange, N, J., 
early in the evening, saying as he entered the house, that 
he could stay but a few moments as he was going to New 
ark to play some accompaniments for his mother, who had 
engaged to sing at a concert there that evening. By some 
oversight he missed the train and consequently passed the 
evening at our house. We played some duetts together, 



8 
and 1 also recollect being deeply impressed with his impro- 
visations on the Piano. Mrs. M. and myself vividly recall 
his open, honest, genial face, his manly form and enthusi- 
astic manner. 

" One of his first paintings, a beautiful little landscape, 
which he presented to me as a token of regard, hangs in the 
cosiest nook in our little parlor, and is doubly endeared to 
us since his departure to the other world." 

Such was the regard entertained for him by these eminent 
critics. That their sentiments represented their respective 
professions, was evident from similar testimonials which 
came from other noted artists. Mr. Henri Appy, known to 
the public as a solo violinist at Jenny Lind's Concerts in this 
country, and more recently President of the Musical Con- 
servatory at Rochester, N. Y., writes from that place under 
date of Augugt 14, 1867 : 

" I have often had the pleasure of listening to Mr. Jameson 
and to practice with him music of the best class, in which 
he has given me tlie best satisfaction. He understood in 
the highest degree, the old and modern masters, and as a 
musician and a pianist he would certainly have become the 
praise of his country." 



9 
The following is from the Sixth Annual Report of the 
Artists' Fund Society of New York, submitted by its Presi- 
dent, Mr. John F. Kensitt : 

" Stricken from the roll of members is the name of one 
who was with us in the early struggles of this Society. His 
life was sacrificed to a noble and patriotic sense of duty to 
his country. In the loathsome fields of Andersonville lie the 
mortal remains of the young, brave and enthusiastic John S. 
Jameson. Had his life been spared, the rare qualities of his 
mind — his exquisite taste and accomplishments, and fine pro- 
mise of future excellence in his art, would have reflected 
honor upon this Society and upon the country of his birth." 
This organization, at its quarterly meeting, May 10, 1865, 
after an address by Col. Vincent Collyer, adopted, at his 
kind suggestion, the following resolution : 

" That the Treasurer of the Artists' Fund Society be in- 
structed to pay to the legal heirs of John S. Jameson the 
sum of fifteen hundred dollars, as an acknowledgment of his 
faithfulness while he was a member of this Society, and in 
recognition of his estimable qualities as an Artist and a 
Patriot." 

But sufficient testimony has been given to vindicate the 
hold our young friend had won upon the esteem of those 
best fitted to judge him. He continued his studies in the 



10 

two professions — with patience and devotion constrained by 
the love of both, — puzzled himself, as his friends were, to de- 
cide which had upon him the superior claim. In the fall of 
1859, he succeeded to the situation of organist, made vacant 
by the death of his Father, at the Church of the Purtians, on 
Union Square, N. Y. A portion of each year he spent 
among the Caatskills, the Adirondacs or the mountains of 
New England. 

The " Grain Field," exhibited in the first collection of the 
Artists' Fund Society, (painted at the age of eighteen) se- 
cured for its author a place among the foremost of young 
artists then coming into notice. This was followed by "The 
Mill in the Storm," " Hanging Hills," and '• Old Homestead," 
scenes in Meriden, Conn., " After a Shower," " Moon rise 
at Sun set," " Twilight on Caatskill Creek," " Artists' Camp 
on the Caatskills," '* Battinkill Creek," " Saranac Waters," 
" Sun set on Big Tupper Lake," and others. His " Adiron- 
dac Scenery," and " Meriden from Mount Lamentation," 
are worthy of mention as among the last of his works. 

But besides these he left many sketches, a portion of 
which are distributed as mementoes among his friends. 
From some of these studies, copies for this purpose have 
been executed by his mother, — whose taste and skill with 



11 



the pencil, as well as with the voice, show that her boy- 
came rightfully by his versatile talents. 

At the outbreak of the war the sympathies of the young 
Artist were warmly engaged. His impulse to enlist at once 
was discouraged by friends in view of his youth and his deli- 
cate physical organization ; in view, too, of the obligations 
hv owed to his widowed mother. Again in 1863, the desire 
to be in the field took strong hold of him. " My heart," he 
said, " is there and I can accomplish nothing here." At 
times his effort to study seemed wholly paralyzed. It was 
now that in consideration of his maturer years and confirm- 
ed health, his mother yielded to his patriotic desire, and 
while pursuing his Art studies and fulfilling a brief engage- 
ment in Meriden, Conn., as organist, he responded to the 
call of the President, enlisted January 2d, 1861:, with a 
younger brother, as a private in the First Connecticut Cav- 
alry, for three years' service. 

After he had enlisted, some friend sought to persuade him 
that his worth would be wasted in the ordinary work of a 
soldier, and ofiered to procure him a situation in Hartford, in 
some <>;overument office. But to such solicitation he made 
quietly but firmly this characteristic reply — as reported by a 
companion : " No ; if I put on the blue I want to rough it 
with the boys in the field. I should be ashamed to be stay. 




12 

ing at borne at my ease, while others were fighting at the 
front." 

From Meriden he went with others to the rendezvous at 
New London, and from there, soon, to the camp of the First 
Conn. Cavalry at Baltimore, Md. After a very tedious 
trip, during which he had seen the most disagreeable side of 
a private's position, he writes home to his mother : " The 
more I see and the more I think it over, the more impossible 
it is for me to find one regret at the step I have taken, and 
were it not for your grief I should have gone away happy. 
If you knew what a weight seems lifted off ray breast, and 
how much freer I breathe, you would be glad with me that 
I am here." At Camp Chesebro, Baltimore, Md., he was 
kept busy most of the time, with his duties as Quarter 
Master Sergeant, to which office he had been assigned, and 
with other work in his Company or for the Regiment, 
which he was always as ready as he was competent to do. 
He found here some small field for his music, having been 
at once solicited to preside at the Melodeon which had 
been procured for the Chapel of the camp. 

After nearly two months spent here, he started with the 
regiment, March 8, on that spring campaign into Virginia, 
whose motto was, at the beginning and at the end, " On to 
Richmond." After two or three temporary halts they 



13 



encamped at a town called Stevensburg, Va., a short distance 
south of Culpepper, and east of Brandy Station, having been 
assigned to the First Brigade of the Third Division, then 
commanded by Gen. Kilpatrick. The Division was one of 
the three which formed the cavalry corps, to the command 
of which Gen. Philip H. Sheridan was very soon assigned. 
Our camp experience here, for a few days, the surgeon, a 
veteran in the service, pronounced the hardest he had ever 
seen; certainly this was the testimony of those now 
trying the field for the first time. It was just in the 
season for Virginia mud which violent and protracted 
rains had made far worse than usual for camping pur- 
poses. Officers and men went for days and nights togeth- 
er, wet and chilled through with the cold, driving storm. 
But more grateful times came in a few days ; the sun at last 
shone, the ground became dry, the camp was removed to a 
delightful location on the sunny slope of a hill within a few 
rods of brigade headquarters, and but two miles from rebel 
pickets. From our tents we had a very extensive and pic- 
turesque prospect, the view of the Blue Ridge being singu- 
larly fine, as its peaks were then covered with snow. With 
the sunshine, revealing such magnificent scenery, there came 
to the camp a more cheerful atmosphere. The Band at head- 
quarters became inspired ; the men began to sing, and soon 



14 

it was proposed to organize a choir, or glee club. Accord- 
ingly the singers of the regiment gathered one day and, by 
common consent, asked Sergeant Jameson to be their leader. 
We admired his fine voice, a clear baritone tenor, which 
seems at home to have been so far eclipsed by other accom- 
plishments that his family friends express surprise that he 
was a singer at all. Books, sacred and patriotic, were sent 
us from New York, through the kindness of Mrs. Jameson, 
and a system of rehearsals began which was not to have a 
very long duration. More than one of those mild evenings 
of early spring we would sing for hours in the open air the 
old songs with which all were familiar — " Oh the home we 
love," " There's a good time coming, boys," and then others 
which had a fascination from their very sadness — " Away 
from the ones we love," " We may fall in the heat of the 
battle," and — 

" Many are the hearts tl;at are weary to-night, 
Longing for the war to cease." 

Then, every little while we would stop singing to watch the 
signal lights of the enemy, just across the Rapidan, and to 
wonder what they meant. We found soon that they meant 
work, so our music books were stored with the Quarter- 
master, and our singing was, for the time, over. 

Indeed, while the regiment was at Stevensburg there was 



15 
much of bard and perilous work. Thirty-three per cent, of 
the cavalry were all the while al the extreme front. Pickets 
remained on duty three or four days, sometimes longer, 
without being relieved ; scouting parties came in frequent 
collision with rebel guerillas, whose mode of warfare was 
savage enough. One of the regiment. Sergeant George A. 
Fish of Co. H, received from a party of these bushwackers 
twenty different wounds, the more serious of them after he 
had surrendered and fallen, in a dying state. 

Jameson, though exempt from picket work as Quarter 
Master Sergeant, yet chose to go on those expeditions, to 
take his share of hardship and to accompany his younger 
brother, for whom he felt the deepest interest He writes 
to his mother, May 30th : 

" We returned from picket; Sunday night, having been 
out nine days. I was tired, a well as my horse, when we 
got home, and well I might liave been, having traveled 
about 160 miles during the nine days, besides having lots of 
Quartermaster and Commissary work to do." And yet af- 
ter such experience, and with the expectation of entering 
immediately upon the terrible work in prospect, he con- 
cludes the letter by saying : " Think of me as being better 
contented than I ever have been since the war commenced." 
On the 3d of May, about midnight, the 3d Cavalry Divis- 



16 
ion broke camp, and after marcliing steadily and rapidly all 
night, with occasional brief halts to allow columns of artil- 
lery and infantry to pass, arrived about daylight at Ger- 
mania Ford on the Rapidan. Crossing the river before the 
pontoons had been laid, they pushed forward, expecting 
every hour to strike the enemy, but meeting no considerable 
force till, on the second day, they encountered a full corps of 
rebel infantry. Then followed those weeks and months of 
constant work. During the first raid under Sheridan, about 
Richmond, which occurred very soon, the cavalry were, on 
an average, eighteen or twenty hours a day in the saddle, 
riding all the while, with but brief intermission for rest or 
food, shelled more than once out of their sleep in the morn- 
ing by rebel gunners that during the night had found them 
by their camp fires, losing heavily from wounds, from 
sickness, and from exhaustion. 

So, in May and June, besides all the work which could not 
be measured or recorded, the regiment earned the right 
ofhcially given, to write on its flag the names of thirteen 
battles. ])uring all this arduous campaign Sergeant Jame- 
son had borne so unexceptionable a record, had suffered so 
patiently, had fought with such bravery, that he had won the 
esteem of the whole regiment. He had a horse shot under 
him at Strawberry Hill, within the first line of fortifications 



17 

at RichmoiH.l, lint escaped here, as elsewhere, all personal 
harm. 

The opinion which his superior officers cherished of him, is 
shown by the following extracts from letters written after 
his death : 

Captain J. D. Thompson of Company M., says : " John S. 
Jameson, a Quarter Master Sergeant of my Company, was 
a soldier Avho commanded the respect and admiration of 
both officers and men of his company by a strict attention 
to all h's duties. Socially, he Avas beloved by all who came 
in contncfc with him, and it could be truly said of him — 

'None knew him but to love him, 
None named him but to praise.'" 

Major George O. Marcy, who was in command of the 
Regiment at camp Chesebrough, and also during the " Wil- 
son Raid," says : " I distinctly recollect that cold, wintry 
morning, when a squad of new recruits were drawn up in 
the snow in front of tlie Provost Marshal's office in Camden 
street, Baltimore, and I stepped out to receive them, that 
Jameson stood on the right of the line, his superior height 
giving him that distinction. Having known him at Meriden, 
I was acquainted with his worth, but was not able to recog- 
nize it more fully at that time than by giving him a Sergeant's 
warrant, and it was only his short service which prevented 



18 

his attaining a higher I'ank. for his name had been phaced 
among the first on the list of those entitled to promotion. 
I think I can can say, without fulsome flattery, that he was a 
universal favorite among officers and men. He was an 
earnest worker, an ardent patriot, a polished gentleman and 
a Christian soldier. The change from his cozy studio to 
the little, mean shelter tent, almost buried in the mud of 
Virginia, in the most inclement month of the year, seemed 
to have no depressing effect upon him. Devotion to princi- 
ple was the inspiration of his soldier-life. He was brave, as 
men of his class always are. He was wonderfully preserved, 
though so much at the front during the spring and early 
summer of 18G4." 

Colonel (now Brevet Brigadier General) Erastus Blakes- 
lee, who commanded the Regiment after they left Baitimore, 
through all the subsequent campaign till June 1st, gives the 
follo-iving testimony: ''Sergeant Jameson attracted my 
attention almost immediately after he joined the Regiment, 
and T soon learned to regard him as one of those thoroughly 
brave and trustworthy men on whom I could always rely to 
accomplish the full measure of their duty in any time of 
cither dithcnlty or danger. I marked him as a perfect 
gentleman. He seemed to me a person of very fine natural 
temperament, having a self-centered mind which depended 



19 

for its true nobility not so much on surrounding cireumstan- 
ces as on its own consciousness of rectitude. He had too 
much self respect to ever come in conflict with his superior 
officers, and too much high toned spirit to ever flinch from 
danger. At the time of his capture his name was, unbe- 
known to him, on my list for speedy promotion, and but for 
his untimely " taking ofl'" he would doubtless soon have at- 
tained that position in the Regiment which his gallantry 
demanded, and for which, by his education and accomplish- 
ments, he was well fitted." 

From such testimonies, which represent accurately the 
feeling of the Regiment, it is evident that although kept in 
the ranks — only because there was no pau.':e in the cam- 
paign long enough to commission him — he was yet, in a 
good degree, appreciated as a soldier and as a man. From 
his limited period of .service, in a subordinate position, he 
could not develop fully the soldierly qualities which he 
really possessed. Had his life been spared there is every 
reason to believe that the virtues which cliaracterized him 
in private spheres, his intelligence, his clearness and quick- 
ness of perception, his integrity of purpose, steady self pos- 
session, manly honor, resolute courage and earnest patriut- 
ism, would have made him, witlmut a question, conspicuous 
among the officers of the Regiment and of tlie service. 



20 
About one o'clock on the morning of June 22, the 3il Cav- 
alry Division, joined by four or five Regiments of General 
Kaut's Cavalry, the whole force under CJeneral Wilson, start- 
ed southward on what is known, in the History of the War, 
as the " Wilson Raid." Crossing the Petersburg and Wel- 
don Railroad at Reams Station, they struck, at several 
points, both the Lynchburg (or South Side,) and the Dan- 
ville Roads — destroying a great amount of property. On 
their return to the Union lines, they were met by strong 
bodies of the enemy sent to intercept them. Arriving at 
Reams Station, General Wilson found himself surrounded 
by troops despatched from Lee's Armj', which was but a few 
miles distant. It was here that Captain (now Brevet Briga- 
dier General) E. W. Whittakcr, of the General's Staff, was or- 
dered to attempt with forty men the perilous task of open- 
ing comnumication with our Infantrj'-, to the left of Peters- 
burg, lie dashed through several bodies of rebel cavalry 
and infantry, arriving safely, with half his command, at Gen- 
eral Meade's head quarters. A portion of the Gth Corps 
was sent to reinforce General Wilson, but were so much de- 
layed that, before their arrival, he was obliged to abandon 
his trains and fall back as speedily as possible. A long liiie 
of ambulances, filled with the sick and wounded, were drawn 
up and left by the roadside, but many of the poor fellows 



21 

were afterwcards re-captured by the 6th Corps. Gun car- 
riages and caissons, army wagons loaded with ammunition 
and stores, articles of every description, confiscated on the 
march— all were gathered in a field and fired. A very large 
number of contrabands, men, women and children, estimated 
by thousands, had to be left to the mercy of the enemy 

When the command started from Reams Station, hotly 
pressed by the Rebel Cavalry, the difficult position of rear 
guard was assigned to the 1st Conn. Cavalry and held by 
them till the Nottoway River was crossed. The retreat was 
continued, not always in the best order, across Stoney Creek ^ 
the Nottoway and the Black water, into the army of the 
Potomac. So, the raid which was glorious in the work it 
accomplished, especially in the destruction of more than 
sixty miles of Railroad, came to a very inglorious end, Al- 
though Gen. Sheridan, in his offical report of the expedition, 
says it would have been a complete success had the Caval- 
ry been supported by the Infantry as it was understood they 
should be. The loss experienced by our Regiment— twenty 
per cent, of the whole fighting force—killed, wounded or 
missino-, was small in view of what had been endured. Some 
of the time there was keen sutfering from hunger, as five 
days' rations issued at the start could hardly be stretched over 
ten days, and there was little opportunity for foraging. Not 



22 

more than once was permission formally given to unsaddle 
and to make coffee, tliongh it was possible to nibble at hard 
tack and salt pork, where any could be got, at odd moments 
of halting, or while on the march. All suffered, too, very 
much, from want of rest. During the ten days, not more 
than two hours out of the twenty -four, on an average, could 
be afforded for comfortable sleep. One of the Cluef Sur- 
geons of the division remarked, he was surprised at one time 
to realize that he had not slept at all in seventy-two hours, 
and his whole nervous system was almost entirely prostrated 
by fatigue and excitement. It was his opinion that the great- 
er part of the missing had fallen out from mere exhaustion, 
and been captured. Yet it was when the command were in 
this condition that they started from Reams Station on their 
forced march of a hundred miles. It is a wonder, that, pur- 
sued sharply as they were, so large a proportion should have 
returned in safety. Very many of the horses became worn 
out, having been almost constantly saddled, marching over 
three hundred miles, kept on short forage or ofteuer none, 
going sometimes for forty-eight hours without a drop of 
water. Then to appreciate these sufferings of horses and 
men it must be remembered that the ten days consumed by 
the expedition embraced the very hottest of the hot weather 
for which that summer seemed specially marked, only a 



■_>;3 
single shower occurring during the whole time, and that not 
enough to lay the dust. It surely is not strange that so 
many should have been worn out and should have fallen in- 
to tlie hands of the enemy. 

Upon the list of the missing, after the Raid, was the name 
of John S. Jameson. It was impossible to know whether he 
was dead or a prisoner, and the agony of suspense suffered 
by friends at home, through long months of weary waiting, 
no one can understand but those who have tasted a like ex- 
perience. His fate was not known till April, 1865, when it 
was discovered that he had died at Andersonville, Ga., Aug. 
31st, 1864. The information came through Dorrance At- 
water, who was captured in July, 1863, a few days subse- 
quent to the battle of Gettysburg, and after being confined 
in several of the rebel prisons, spent a long time at Ander- 
sonville. Being an excellent penman he was made clerk 
in the hospital, and suspecting that although the Confederate- 
Government professed to send North a list of the Union 
dead, they really did not do it, be copied the list himself 
clandestinely, secreting it upon his person when he was ex- 
changed. 

One of the hospital books could not be fuund when the 
place was captured by our forces, and the names it coiita'i.ed, 
over two thousand, could only be supplied from Atwafcr's 



24 

list — so that to his forethought aud bohliiess many a fiimily 
are indebted for the only information tliey could ever have 
received of their lost friends. It is a satisfaction to these 
families to know that he is at last likely to receive at the 
hands of our Government the appreciation which his con- 
duct deserves. 

From two of the First Connecticut Cavalry captured ou 
the same Raid and taken to Andersonville — Corporal Frank 
Schumaker, Co A, and Corporal W. H. Cook, Co G, who 
met Sergeant Jameson at Libby Prison, some particulars 
were obtained regarding his capture, as given them by him- 
self, and of his subsequent experience. He was taken June 
29. on the retreat, near Reams Station, having fallen behind 
on account of illness and exhaustion. He was filling his 
canteen at a creek just cros.^ed by the Regiment, when the 
rebels came in between and cut liim off. He was ta' en to 
a planter's house near by, with a number of otliers, and re- 
mained there till the next day, when, being too weak to 
walk, he was put on a worn-out hor.?e and carried to Peters- 
burg. Here he was stripped, in common with the other 
pi'isoners, of everything lie had. They took such articles of 
clothing as were at all valuable, money, family photographs, 
and even his testament. From there they were taken to 
Libby Prison at Richmond. Though prostrated much of the 



25 

time with diarrhea, he did very much to encourage his com- 
rades to keep up good heart, telling tliem the Union army 
was certain to triumph, and the prisoners would soon be 
free. On the 4th of July, he joined with others in cheering 
heartily the '• Stars and Stripes." 

On the 17th of July, they started from Richmond fur 
Georgin. The trip, in exteremely oppressive heat, in covered 
box cars, was very wearing even to those in health, but was 
especially exhau.sting to our sick friend. He suffered great- 
ly from hunger, as very inadequate rations were served them, 
and at Goldsboro, became so desperate as to sell his blouse 
to a negro for a little corn bread. More than once, when 
with the Regiment, he had been glad to eat raw the hard 
shelled corn foraged for the horses, but now he could not get 
even this. Arriving at Anderso: ville, he fainted away, but 
when a comrade dashed water in his face and gave him some 
to drink, he revived and was carried at once into the Hos- 
pital, wi.ich he never left till carried out to the grave. His 
companions from whom these particulars were obtained, 
went into the stockade, and from the time of their separation 
nothing definite is known of his experience in the Hospital 
nothing except the fact of his decease. 

His grave, carefully marked by Dorrance Atwater, was 
easily identified at the close of the war, and his remains 



26 

were removed to Hurtfonl, where they were re-interred, 
June 29th, 18GG, after funeral services conducted by the 
Chaplain of his Regiment. Friends who mourn that they 
could not have been near him in those last days of weakness 
and suffering, are thankful for the comfort, denied so many 
afflicted homes, that he sleeps quietly, among kindred, in the 
place of liis birth ; that his grave is wliere they wlio loved him 
can come and weep and pray ; where comrades can gather 
to talk of his virtues, to recount the story of soldier-life, to 
cover with flowers his place of rest, and to take anew the 
old pledge of devotion to the principles for which lie suffer- 
ed and died. 

The country is not even yet enough recovered from the 
shock of the war to realize the price paid for its redemption. 
The life, briefly sketched in this memorial, is l)ut one of near- 
ly 300,000 that were laid upon the altar, midtitudes of them 
like this, lives of extraordinary jiromise, all of tliem unspeak- 
ably dear to sorrowing friends. Many Biographies have 
been written which awaiien a bitter regret that lives so rich 
in gifts, so radiant with virtue, so noble in real manhood, 
should have gone out so suddenly, so soon. Yet tliere were 
many, many others whose histories will never be read, who 
were in their own circles of friendsliiji as honored and as 
dear, whose future was as fair, wliose blood was as cheerfully 



27 

given. What precious sacrifices were offered np during 
those cruel years, God oufy knows — God and the homes 
scattered through the land that have been made desolate. 
Yet who will say that the offei-iiig was too costly, that the 
blood which flowed like a river was wasted, in view of the re- 
sults accomplished, — the rebel power broken, our free insti- 
tutions preserved, our country a unit, not one star lost from 
her banner? 

A placard posted in the streets of one of our New Eng- 
gland Cities in 1S61, calling for recruils, asked with the spirit 
of '76, " What will it matter if to-morrow we die, provided, 
through our death, the Country can be free !" Thousands 
who rallied at these brave words never came back from the 
w.ar. They hoped, with as mucli confidence as they dared, 
to see again those to whom they had said " good bj-e," but 
were disappointed. In the First Connecticut Cavalry a 
custom was observed that became to the Regiment very 
dear. When a mail arrived, our Chief Bugler, Voltz, 
came to Head Quarters, and with a skill which few knew so 
well as he, played '• Home, Sweet Home." It was often a 
very strange sound, sometimes it came during a brief halt 
on a march ; sometimes during the lull in a battle ; some- 
times on return from picket — always bringing as it rang 
through the regiment, memories and hopes which only a 



28 
soldier can understau '. During winter quarters at Win- 
chester, Va., it was the hist sound but one from the bugle 
at night. Many a tired boy lay down to rest humming as 
he fell asleep that sweet strain of Home, remembering it in 
his dreams, awaking at Reveille to find home still far away, 
but hoping that hope which lightened all burdens, that one 
day the dream should be a fact. 

In the letters writen home by Sergeant Jameson, there 
were frequent expressions like these — " I look forward with 
good faith to the happy re-organization of our little family" — 
" I think of all at home constantly, and long to be with you 
again, and if things move as successfully as they have moved 
of late, next fall wil see us re-united — that's one thing we're 
fighting for." The longing, breathed in such words, was 
shared by many a comrade who is resting witii him, to-day, 
in the grave. But thougli denied the fulfillment of tlieir 
hopes, they died with the satisfaction that they were winning 
a " Sweet Home" for the dear ones they had left beliind. 
A conciousness of this inspires the hearts of the people with 
gratitude towards the dead of the war, the remembrance 
that to them is due, in a large measure, our Hag, our liber- 
ties, the peace and plenty of quiet homes, all in fact that 
gives security and joy to our civil life. On one of four tab- 
lets in the State House at Boston, wliich forineil the bise of 



29 

a column erected in 1791, on Beacon Hill, visitors read the 
following inscription — " Americans !— while from this emin" 
ence, scenes of luxuriant fertility, of flourishing commerce 
and the abodes of social happiness meet your view, forget 
not those who by their exertions have secured to you these 
blessings." Around the room, in which these tal lets are. 
hang two hundred flags, ragged and bloody, which the va- 
rious ^Massachusetts Regiments brought home from the 
war; i\nd in such a presence the exhortation applies as 
well to history of to day, — calling upon Americans now to 
cherisli in gratitude and love the memory of the martyr 
dead," Happily the Nation feels that it has no honors 
worthy enough for its brave defender.?^, and it is a conscious- 
ness of this which strengthens those upon whom the loss has 
chiefly fallen. That New England mother who said, calmly, 
with an almost breaking heart, " I think I am very grate- 
ful to God, that I ever had so dear a boy to give to my 
country" — was one of a multitude, mothers, wives, sisters, 
— the class that bore the heaviest burdens of the war — who, 
in their loneliness and sorrow, find sweet joy in reflecting 
that they were able to spend so much, their all perhaps, to 
buy life for the nation. Such a spirit of heroic patriotism, 
there is reason to believe, will prevail more and more, in 
years to come. As it is an honor to claim in one's ancestry 



30 

a name among the Revolutionary dead, so, in another gen- 
eration, wlien the momentous meaning of our recent struggle 
is understood, when its fruits are all gathered, its lessons all 
learnt, and the world sees what it accomplished for the na- 
tion and the race, — -no household, then, will want a prouder 
distinction than the right to say, " we lost one or more in 
the war for the Union." Commnnities, too, will cherish, 
more and more affectionately and reverently, their martyr 
list ; after monuments have grown old and time has effaced 
their inscriptions, the names will be still remembered, all of 
tliem, — written on the hearts of grateful countrymen. 



31 
TO MRS. JAMESON. 

On Freedom's altar yon have laid 

A gift of costliest price, 
Even the first-born of your flock, 

A perfect sacrifice. 

Yet count the offering not too dear, 

Nor sit unreconciled ; 
What have you, you have not received 

From Him, who claimed your child V 

Remember too, though he was all 

Your loving heart desired, 
Of those to whom the most is given 

The most will be required. 

He may be nearer than you deem, 
Tiiough to your sight denied ; 

A ministering angel still, 
A better, surer, guide. 

Gone from the world perchance to save 

Some soul in sin astray : 
Who following now, the path he trod 

Will find the heavenly way. 

And surely one so fit for earth 

Was fitter for the sky ; 
He, who was best prepared to live. 
Was best prepared to die. 

PiKEHK C.vnv 
January, 30th, 18G0. 



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